it's been a week

I love how the BBC's latest round of nature programmes are all "the most dangerous expedition ever" to "unexplored lands". But I can't really mock them, they're fucking brilliant, mostly.


It's been a week. Or it will have been a week, tomorrow. I still miss him horribly, look for his grumpy face when I head downstairs in the morning and find myself collecting loo-rolls for his amusement (Dorris was never as interested as he was in knocking things over). The house isn't empty without him, but it does feel... less full. There's a Pete-shaped gap that I know won't be filled, but will merely become less sharp.

I hope he went happy, and I hope that he and Daphne are back together - there is a strange consolation in him leaving almost two years to the day after she did.

bunny love

I love my bunny. I thought i'd proved this to him spending a whacking chunk of my boat savings on vet bills, but apparently he begrudges the loss of his leg more than I thought. Oh yes. He wants revenge. He needs to know I love him, that I'll do anything for my poor little tripod bunny.

He's playing on my guilt. I can see it in his eyes, he knows I feel terrible for not spotting the lump earlier, for having his leg cut off so he falls over and for laughing when he does.

He's making me clean his bum.

He's got me standing in the bathroom, cradling him and picking caecals out of his fur with my fingernails, then washing his backside with water, carefully sponging around his stitches so it doesn't hurt. While he nibbles on my t-shirt, and I'm thinking, please don't chew my boob, please don't.

I love my bunny.

bunkin

Pete has lost his leg to cancer. He's awake, the operation went fine and all is well. I'll update as and when I know what's happening.

Pete

The bunkin has either an abscess with massive amounts of scar tissue, or a tumor - the former being strange because it appeared so quickly, the second being rare in bunnies as it appears relatively skin-based. If it is a tumor, it's also grown quickly, which may have led to the center necrotizing. As it is, he went to the vet this afternoon (as I only saw it this morning) and had a drain put in; he's now on baytrill with a side order of pinapple juice; I'm going to be syringing baby food into him tomorrow, which he'll love. Almost as much as he loves his buster collar.

2 years!

Sir Peteykins McFluffbum The Rabbit of Doom is two. I knew easter was good for something beyond zombified deities.